


i'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

by clarissawrites



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dancing, F/F, Lots of blushing, best friend jack, hopeless lesbian lena luthor, lillian is the worst, supercorp dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26796109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarissawrites/pseuds/clarissawrites
Summary: The annual charity ball is a place for members of the High Houses to brush elbows, gossip, and pair off their children. Lena hates it--until she meets a beautiful woman with bright blue eyes and a charming smile.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80





	i'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based off T. Swift's "Enchanted". Also sort of futuristic cinderella ball vibes crossed with Game of Thrones (minus the incest and cutthroat politics and bloodshed).

They’re the last to arrive at the annual charity ball—fashionably late, according to Lillian—but Lena’s grown to expect this. It’s been the same since she was young. The Luthors wait for no one, answer to no one, and operate only on their own time frame. Lena has no choice but to accept her fate, in this as in everything else. It’s tradition, or something, and tradition must never be questioned in the Luthor household.

Their carriage, too, is the old-fashioned, horse-drawn kind rather than a new, sleek, solar electrical engine model—of which they own five from the last three years alone. No, to this ball in particular they must pull up in a horse-drawn carriage (brand new, of course), complete with footmen and a driver and lanterns, and make use of the nearby stables that Lena’s sure are only still in operation for them.

At least Lillian doesn’t insist upon her dressing like they did hundreds of years ago. No, if Lena had shown up in anything other than the latest style and fashion, along with the latest trends in hair and makeup, that would be a scandal all of its own, and so, blessedly, she’s allowed to wear the type of clothing that allows her to blend in with this crowd. Mostly.

She probably had more stylists fussing over her in the last week than half of the young women here combined and it shows: she’s been written up as a trendsetter for years due to this night alone. She’s half convinced it’s because she insists on adding her own personal flair to the outfits, but she knows its largely due to the fact that she’s a Luthor, and they’re still more respected in their lineage than almost anyone else.

As few as 20 years ago, this ball was primarily attended by social elites, the High Houses, the families with old money: the nobles. But changes have been made recently, and though it’s still primarily the elite families and nobility that make an appearance, Houses with new money have been invited of late—though only if they have a certain amount of money and social standing, of course. In addition, scientists and doctors, even researchers and humanitarians that have made great progress and are at the top of their fields are also asked to attend these days. Though, that’s probably why Lillian still insists on arriving the way they do: it’s a way to signal that somehow, even after everything, they’re above the rest. Despite Lex’s last few years of insanity, House Luthor is still at the highest level of elite, and Lillian seems more intent on preserving this fact than actually making progress in the world.

Lena herself secretly likes the fact that it’s not just the noble houses at this event anymore, though. It makes things mildly more interesting than the other balls she is forced to attend, if only just. There are conversations to listen in on that center around advancing technologies and political predictions—the actual work being done amongst the people—rather than just the latest scandal.

Even if most of them _are_ still trying to marry their children or themselves off to the highest bidder, as it were.

When Lillian and Lena enter the great room, they’re introduced like some sort of goddamn royalty before descending into the waiting throng, and Lillian grips Lena’s arm tightly at the bottom of the stairs, almost bruising.

“Behave,” she hisses in Lena’s ear—as if Lena’s ever done anything but—and lets her go.

Lena heads straight for the bar. Veronica and Siobhan greet her as she passes, and she returns it amicably but without any real interest. They compliment her dress, she compliments their hairstyles and jewelry. It’s all very forced and awkward, the the sort of expected and rehearsed exchange that passes for a conversation around here, especially in Lena’s case. Luckily, the two women are occupied with whatever else they were talking about before she arrived (probably gossip rather than something actually interesting) and once the greetings are done with, they don’t protest as she steps away.

Lena orders a glass of red wine from the stoic bartender, secretly wishing for a scotch. However, her mother _is_ watching, probably, and disapproves of Lena’s taste in liquor. Wine is acceptable, at least, but she still wonders briefly if she can disguise a shot of something stronger somehow. Would a martini be pushing it? With a sigh, she accepts the wine and wanders off, successfully avoiding Maxwell Lord.

Finding a small high-top table off to the side of the room, Lena sips her wine and watches the crowd, wishing for a seat. All the bar stools or tables with chairs are taken though, so she stays where she is for the time being. She supposes eventually she’ll have to interact with someone, likely Veronica or Siobhan again, or even Leslie of House Willis, a newer addition to the party with old money ties. She hates all of them. They’re petty and ridiculous and don’t care about any of the things Lena’s interested in. She sees them all at half a dozen other balls throughout the year, and is forced to socialize then, forced to feign interest in fashion trends and the latest affairs. She’d rather not play those games tonight.

She supposes Andrea might be here somewhere, but when Lillian found out about their clandestine meetings a few years back, she scared or paid the other woman off somehow, and Andrea no longer interacts with Lena beyond brief, polite greetings. It’s a shame too—Lena could actually stand Andrea most of the time. It’s something Lillian excels at: ruining almost any friendships Lena might ever have, especially those that have a danger of becoming romantic.

“Wallowing all alone, are we?” drawls an accented voice behind her, and Lena turns, a relieved smile forming on her lips.

“Hey, Jacky.”

“Hello, darling.”

He gives her a hug, plunking down his drink next to hers. She eyes it enviously. “How much would I have to pay you to go get one of those for me and pretend it’s for you?”

Laughing, he pats her hand. “Now, now, darling. You just got here. Surely your night hasn’t been that bad already.”

“I just spent several hours in a horse drawn carriage with Lillian,” she deadpans.

He slides her the drink. “First one’s on the house.”

“It’s an open bar, Jacky.”

He just nudges it closer. Checking to make sure Lillian’s not watching, Lena throws it back while Jack sips at her abandoned wine.

Lena sighs and swipes the wine back from him when she’s done. “I didn’t say I didn’t also want that. I’m bored out of my mind, here, you know. I have a dozen projects in the lab to be working on instead of wasting my time with the vainest of them all.”

He presses a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “Is it vanity if it’s justified?”

She shoves his shoulder lightly. “You know I don’t mean you, Jacky.”

Jack rolls his eyes at her, good-naturedly, making a show of looking around the room. “No eligible bachelors suitable for you yet again this year?”

“They do all have one fatal flaw.”

“Ah, right.” He snaps his fingers as if finally figuring it out. “No one’s rich enough or noble enough for the elusive Lena Luthor.”

She shoots him a look. “Jack.”

Jack chuckles, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently. “You know your mother’s the only one that cares about _that_ anymore.”

It’s true. Since science and technology have advanced enough for bloodlines to continue through two men or two women and no longer need the traditional approach, and most houses have stopped caring about traditional gender roles and sexuality. _Most_ houses. Lillian Luthor is of course one of few exceptions, though she’d never let that be known publicly.

“She’s my mother. She can make my life a living hell. Remember Andrea?”

Jack bumps her shoulder gently with his, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I know, darling.”

Lena sighs and smiles back. The Speer family had been close to the Luthors when Lena and Jack were growing up. He’s her oldest friend. Lena knows her mother would be pleased if they announced their engagement, but neither of them are interested in the other, and never will be (for obvious reasons).Still, it’s nice to have at least one actual friend at these things, when he’s not off seducing some young man or another.

Jack kisses her cheek and excuses himself to go get another drink. Lena takes a healthy sip of her wine, and accepts some appetizers from a passing waiter that she only picks at, despite being rather hungry.

As she people-watches and tries to entertain herself without looking like she needs anyone to pay her any attention, one of the young men chatting with Mon-el of House Daxam comes over, not so subtly trying to flirt with Lena. Considering who he was with moments before, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was only there on a dare. Bored, Lena keeps her responses to his advances even and uninterested.

He doesn’t take the hint, flagging down a waiter to refill her drink when she tries to use getting another one as and excuse to leave. He’s telling some joke or anecdote that Lena has long since tuned out and she forces a smile, taking a gulp of her wine and gazing around at the crowd.

She finds her eye drawn to a woman in a dark blue gown, blonde hair piled into an intricate mass of braids on her head. Her arms are bare, and Lena can easily see the definition of her muscles as she gestures excitedly to another woman beside her. As Lena’s staring, mesmerized, the woman in blue glances her way and catches her eye.

The moment is fully charged, Lena’s heart pounding in her ears. Her breath catches in her throat and even across the room she can tell that the woman’s eyes are bright, brilliant blue, and that her whole face lights up when she smiles. Something in Lena’s chest swells, and her stomach begins to feel hot and fluttery. She has a sudden urge to go to the woman, to know her name. To hear her voice, her laugh, to see those eyes up close.

Their eye contact lasts all of a few seconds before the woman’s attention is pulled away, but even so, Lena feels her face flush, heart racing. Her palms are sweaty and she grips her wine glass a little too tightly in an effort to keep herself grounded.

“Sorry,” she says to the man beside her, finally interrupting his tirade. “Whatever you’re looking for, you’re not going to get it. I’m not interested.”

To his credit, he doesn’t call her a bitch or spit in her face, but he does shrug and adjust his jacketin an attempt to look charming and irresistible before walking off. “Your loss.”

Lena turns back toward the crowd, glad to be rid of him, and finds herself looking for the woman in blue again. When Lena’s eye finds her, she’s looking too. Keeping her eyes on Lena, the woman says something to her companion and Lena forces herself to look away, not to be caught staring, though the pull of her is near magnetic. She pretends to listen to the conversation beside her, someone talking about a new media conglomerate that’s growing rapidly, but she’s having trouble focussing.

She takes a gulp of her drink, intending to move toward a few members of the bio-tech board when someone appears at her elbow. Expecting Jack, she looks up instead to see the pair from across the room: the blonde smiling with a hand outstretched, the brunette standing back with her arms crossed.

“Hello!” says the blonde woman brightly.

Lena takes her hand, momentarily stunned into an automatically cordial response. “Hello. I’m Lena.”

The woman laughs at that—a bright, happy sound that makes Lena feel like she could forget sadness if she spent enough time listening to it. “I know. We’ve met before.”

Lena’s brow furrows before she can stop it. Surely she’d remember that. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember....”

The woman waves a hand. “Don’t apologize. It was a long time ago. I’m Kara. Kara Danvers.”

At her name, Lena is very sure they haven’t met: the Danvers’ are a lower ranking family that the Luthors would have had no reason to speak with except in high business settings or a place like this. They’re scientists or perhaps humanitarians, she thinks, newer money, and not much interest in climbing the social or economic ladder—something Lillian thinks is abhorrent and Lena finds rather alluring.

“I think you must be mistaken about our having met,” she responds.

Kara laughs again, light and carefree, her eyes twinkling. “You’re Lena Luthor, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not mistaken. But don’t worry about it. Seriously: it was a long time ago, and I’m sure we’re both very different people now.”

That, at least, Lena can agree with.

“Kara,” sighs the woman at her elbow, and Kara turns, as if remembering her suddenly.

“Oh! Sorry! This is my sister, Alex.”

Lena nods a greeting to Alex who returns it curtly but doesn’t extend a hand. The sisters look almost nothing alike, a detail that Lena’s not quite sure why she notices. She doesn’t look much like her brother, when all is said and done, but there are always certain similarities in siblings, and she doesn’t detect any in the Danvers.

“Quite a party, isn’t it?” Kara asks, breaking the silence that falls awkwardly over them. Lena grimaces.

“If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“What, all the rich men looking to charm your hand for their fortunes not doing it for you?” Alex says snarkily.

“Not really,” Lena says with a raised brow.

“Not enough money?” Alex returns with a challenge.

“Too many men.”

That earns her a look of surprise from Alex that morphs into a look of respect a moment later. Lena chews on her lip and tries not to blush from the intense look Kara is giving her.

“At least there’s good food, wine, and dancing,” Kara says eventually.

Alex sighs, but Lena’s not quite sure what for.

“Yes,” Lena amends, smiling at Kara. “Unfortunately, in a crowd like this, it’s difficult to find a decent dancing partner.”

“You’d prefer an indecent one?” Kara quips back, the twinkle in her eyes betraying the joke. Lena barely refrains from laughing.

“As long as they can lead, but don’t insist on it,” she grins. “ I really don’t care how unrefined they are.”

The song ends and another begins—a mid-tempo waltz. Kara extends a hand.

“I’m not sure if I qualify as refined, but I’d like to think I can both lead and follow. Would you do me the honor of finding out?”

Lena blanches, the humor falling away. Automatically, she looks around for her mother. Lillian is sitting at one of the banquet tables, her back to the dance floor, in a deep conversation with some old friends. Still, Lena shakes her head.

“I can’t…my mother…”

“I’ll understand if you say no, but it’s just a dance, Lena,” Kara says softly. “I promise to be a gentlewoman. Nothing untoward here.”

Her eyes are so blue and open and kind that Lena finds herself setting her drink on the table and putting her hands in Kara’s without another thought.

Kara smiles when she does, her face splitting into a wide grin as she leads Lena to the dance floor and pulls her close. She knows the steps perfectly, which is a relief, because even though Lena’s been well trained, she’s not sure she could do anything but follow at this moment. Her heart is hammering in her chest, all of her senses filled with Kara: with her bright smile and sparkling eyes, the faintest whiff of perfume, the gentle but firm hold she has on Lena’s hand and waist, the soothing melody of her laugh as she spins Lena around.

Lena wants to kiss her very, very badly.

“Tell me about yourself,” Kara asks as they move easily to the music, her voice low and warm.

“Not much that isn’t well known,” Lena says. “You obviously know who I am, what more is there to tell?”

Kara shakes her head a little, chuckling. “Not that sort of thing. What’s your favorite food? What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever found yourself researching? Do you have any skills you want to learn that you’ve never had the chance to?You know, the important things.”

Lena does laugh now, caught off guard by Kara’s earnest goofiness. “Oh, right, those things. I should have guessed.”

“I doesn’t have to be those things exactly.” Kara defends. “Just, stuff like that.”

“Well. I suppose I’ve always wanted to learn how to make bread.”

Kara’s eyebrows rise. “Bread?” She asks, but her tone is full of genuine interest.

“I’ve never cooked or baked much, but I’m really good at chemistry and there’s a lot of similarities. Bread seems as good a place to start as any. Though, I don’t have a lot of time for things like that.”

“Any kind of cooking or baking is a noble pursuit,” Kara tells her seriously, and Lena knows she means it.

The dance ends far too soon after that, but Kara doesn’t let go. “One more?” She asks, and Lena finds herself unable to say no. She’d say yes to anything if Kara asked, she thinks, Kara with her blue puppy dog eyes and soft looking mouth and genuine laugh and strong, gentle hands.

The next song has a faster tempo, and as Kara whirls her around, Lena finds that she’s genuinely enjoying herself. Kara leads again, for which she is eternally grateful, still dizzy with the feel of Kara’s skin on hers.

“Not so fast,” she giggles, after a particularly quick spin.

Kara’s grinning as Lena all but falls into her arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”

“I’d be more worried if you couldn’t.” Lena can’t help the hand that grips Kara’s bicep a little too tightly, a little too long.

“Not enough muscle for you, huh?” Kara teases, and Lena blushes a little.

“Muscle? What muscle? I was talking about your quick reflexes. I already told you I don’t like to dance with someone if they can’t roll with the punches.”

Kara laughs out loud and spins her around again, flexing her muscles unnecessarily. Lena’s breathless, and she’s not entirely sure if it’s from the dancing or her proximity to Kara.

Before she knows it, the second song is over too. It ends with Lena crashing accidentally into Kara’s arms after one final spin, both breathing heavily. Lena’s barely noticed the music stopping. Her stomach is fluttery again, the lights sparkling all around them giving Kara the appearance of an angel. They’re pressed flush against one another, and Lena feels safe and happy and at peace for the first time in a very long time, even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest. She glances down to Kara’s pink, smiling lips and licks her own, inhaling sharply and pulling away.

Kara keeps hold of her hand as a third song starts, but Lena shakes her head.

“I shouldn’t,” she says, glancing toward where she knows Lillian sits. Her mother isn’t looking just now, but that doesn’t mean she hadn’t seen. Two dances can be explained away as politeness, but three dances might as well be an affair.

Luckily, Kara seems to understand. She lifts Lena’s hand to her lips for a kiss before dropping it. “If you change your mind, come find me,” she says and backs away a few steps before turning, swallowed by the crowd.

Lena can’t breathe.

It takes her far too long to get her legs moving again, to make her way back to the bar and order more wine. She really wants more whiskey, but she’s already done one too many things to anger her mother today, and doesn’t want to chance it.

She’s halfway through her second glass, still trying to calm her shaking hands, when Jack sidles up to her. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Luthor.”

She glares at him, trying to pretend she’s not still affected by two short dances, by the feeling of being held by Kara, by the look in the other woman’s eyes. “What, dancing with a woman? They were just dances, Jack. I’ve danced with women before.”

“Dancing, specifically, with _that_ woman.” He says it like there’s something she should know. She shoots him a look.

“I know she’s attractive, Jack, and even you have eyes to see that, but she’s just a woman.”

“You do know who that was, right?”

Lena looks at him fully, brow furrowed. “Kara Danvers.”

Jack lets out a little laugh. “Yeah. Sure. Ok. Just Kara Danvers then.”

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Jack. Sure, the Danvers’ don’t have old family money, but they’re perfectly respectable.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Lena sighs and sips at her wine, turning away from Jack. Kara’s dancing a sort of jig with Alex now, and even the stoic older sister seems to be having a good time. Maybe Kara’s just infectious, she thinks, and wonders self-deprecatingly how many women she’s charmed. Is Lena just the latest in a long line of conquests? Lena’d like to think she’s pretty good at telling when someone is trying to pull one over on her, and she hadn’t gotten that vibe from Kara at all. Their interaction had felt honest, but Lena can’t help but wonder.

Still, it takes everything in her not to go over to Kara again for the rest of the night. A few times, they catch eyes across the room, and Kara always give her an open, hopeful smile that Lena can only return sadly. Kara doesn’t press, doesn’t come over to try and convince her to dance again, and Lena’s not sure if she’s grateful or disappointed.

Instead, she watches as Kara dances with a handful of other women, including a younger girl with dark hair and lanky limbs that Lena’s never seen before but appears to be drawing the main attention of Querl Dox, a young genius descendant of one of the noble families that Lena’s only recently made acquaintance with. He’s awkward but nice, and interesting to talk to. Lena almost goes over to him in hopes of engaging with Kara again. It seems risky, so she stay where she is, watching Kara from afar instead and trying to pretend she isn’t.

Kara also dances with a few men, having a particularly good time with a goofy looking fellow with curly dark hair that makes both her and Alex laugh, and Lena wonders if the dances and the flirting and the connection she felt were all in her head. What if Kara was just trying to get close to one of the elites, trying to charm her way in with the nobles, and saw her chance in vulnerable, stupid Lena?

As the night drags on, Lena half listens in on some conversations around her and chats with Veronica and Lana when Jack’s not nearby, but her focus is limited and she knows they all sense it. She can’t stop wondering if Kara was just taking pity on her somehow, or trying to play her hand like all the rest and get close to the Luthor family through her. She’s certain that’s what her mother will think, but Lena also gets the feeling that’s not who Kara is. She’s sure Kara was being genuine.

Either way, she knows the likelihood of there ever being a repeat interaction is next to none. Not simply because Lena’s unavailable to someone like her, but also due to Kara’s undeniable charm and attraction of many others in the room. Surely she has several suitors hoping to catch her eye, and even more surely, she has her eye on one of them.

Lena knows how this works, and she’ll never be the one to get the girl.

Time passes so slowly after the dances, but finally Lillian’s demanding they leave. They’ve been here less time than anyone else, but that’s the Luthor way. Arrive late, leave early: as if this is merely a stop on their long list of social obligations tonight.

Lena doesn’t look for Kara as they go, not wanting to betray her feelings to her mother. Still, she swears she can feel Kara’s eyes on her as they exit the room, and she can’t help the blush that creepsup her neck and into her face. Even the air outside does little to cool her warm skin, and she fights the urge to physically fan herself.

Lillian’s quiet for a while as the carriage rattles down the road, the sound of the horse’s hooves steady against the pavement. Lena hopes it will stay that way, but she knows she’s not lucky enough that her mother didn’t at least hear about the dances. Her face is still warm, and she knows any mention of Kara will bring back the blush full force.

Finally, Lillian speaks up. “Of all the girls to dance with, Lena, you had to choose that one?”

Lena looks at her mother for a long moment before speaking, grateful for the darkness inside the carriage that hides the color in her cheeks. “She’s the one that asked me.”

“You don’t have to accept every proposal that comes your way.”

Honestly, Lena thinks that’s going a bit too far: if anything, she’s become known for doing quite the opposite.

“It was just a friendly dance, Mother. That’s what these events are for, aren’t they? Socializing through food and drink and dance?”

“Yes, but _her_?”

“I don’t know why everyone seems to have a problem with her. She’s just another woman to brush elbows with.”

Lillian stares. “You really don’t know who that girl was? Lena, I’m astonished.”

“I do know who she was. Kara Danvers.”

Lillian scoffs. “Of course she would take their name.”

“The Danvers’ are a respectable family, Mother.”

“She’s adopted, Lena. They took her in when she was 13.”

Lena frowns at this, though it does explain why Kara and Alex look nothing alike. “Adoption isn’t bad, Mother. Unless it’s that you’re worried I’ve somehow soiled myself by touching someone without noble blood.”

Lillian shakes her head. “It’s not a lack of noble blood that’s the matter, Lena. She has too much noble blood, of the wrong type.”

That makes no sense. Lena sits in silence for almost a full minute before admitting: “I don’t understand.”

Lillian leans close to her daughter. “That girl that you were dancing with? She used to be Kara Zor-El.”

Lena’s stomach drops, the blood draining from her face.

Zor-El. Kara of the house of El, the fallen house of El. The Luthors greatest rival: Lex’s greatest enemies—and biggest downfall.

No wonder Kara seemed to think they knew each other. They had met, once, as children. Lena has a vague memory of a pretty little girl, whip-smart and mischievous, charming an entire room of adults at a very similar event to the one tonight.

“Well, maybe it’s time we put the past behind us,” Lena bites out, irritation flashing at her mother’s insistence of holding onto the past. And honestly, why shouldn’t they? Neither she nor Kara played any part in the rivalry between Kal-El and Lex. What’s done is done, and the only thing is to move forward.

Besides, it is unlikely that she will ever see Kara again, at least until next year, and she’s sure the other woman will have forgotten about her by then.

She’s not sure she’ll ever be able to forget about Kara.


End file.
